I'd only been dead one hour

When he found me there

Laying in the grass

The smell of rain heavy in my lungs

Intoxicating me gently .

He pulled on my hair

And cried my name with despair,

Though I heard him like I was underwater

Drowning in his tears.

Once he had been gentle with me,

Held me in his palm just like

One would hold the first sunrays of the morning.

Now though, there was no gentle touch

Caressing my skin.

He was rough, desperate to feel the life within

To see my chest rise and fall

But I think, in his bones, he knew

There was no use to such gentleness.

Not anymore.

Yet he still hoped

To pull me back to life.

(Never again)